I love your stories. I know that they were made during a time before Facebook, or blogs, or online magazines. A time when these stories were shared over the dinner table, or at pot-luck Sunday at church.
I need your stories, your words of advice, your experienced words of wisdom, your been there done that attitude.
I love when you tell me that my kids remind you of yours.
I need to know that you’ve walked in these worn out shoes that I’m walking in now.
I love when you share your experience of being a young mom. I need that. I need to know that this is how it is. How raising young kids is.
I’ve witnessed you making it through. Witnessed it from your stories. Stories of your kids and all the crazy things they did. The late nights you had. The fights, homework, activities, busy schedules, bumps and bruises and the love you have for them.
You help me realize, even in my most tired moments that I can and will make it through. Through all of the crazy things that kids do, through the nursing newborn learning times, the terrible twos and threes, the dare-devil boyish ages, the sick times, bike crashes and the messy house.
I’ve watched you make it through my future years: the years of kids making friends and discovering who they are, the ER visits, the unpredictable pre-teen years, the crazy teenage years, the dating years.
I love your stories. So if you see me post a picture of my kids and it brings back memories for you, please share those memories! I know they are important to you, but they are also important to me.
Your memories and stories give me reassurance and encouragement. I know that even if I make mistakes, my kids still have a chance to grow up and be great young men. Even when I feel like I might be doing it all wrong, I know that I’m not the first to walk these paths.
Now it seems so easy to hop on the internet and share our kids’ stories. But the pre-blog stories from you, as a “been there done that” mom, are the stories that give me hope for my kids and faith in myself.